|DESPITE MISSING A CRUCIAL REVIEW IN UNDERWATER BASKET WEAVING-101, I STILL GOT THE "C," AND EVENTUALLY GRADUATED BC...ON TIME.|
The Mets were playing the Cincinnati Reds, (October 9, 1973) in the National League Championship Series. That day, we could have eliminated the much heralded, "Big Red Machine," with a win. So it was shocking that with so much riding on that single game, (the other major storyline was, Pete Rose had beat-up a Mets player the day before), that we could walk-up to the box office and get seats. The Mets were heavy underdogs and of course, when I went, they annoyingly lost, on a Pete Rose homer in the twelfth inning, (but won the next game and went to the World Series).
The three things I came away from that game were, the Mets did better without me in attendance, Pete Rose had a haircut like Moe from, "THE THREE STOOGES," and despite 50,786 fans in Shea Stadium...the twenty-four, half-inning breaks, were enough to keep the lines for the men's room manageable.
|IN 1963 THE HOME ATTENDANCE FOR JETS GAMES TOPPED OFF AT 22,000. LINEBACKER LARRY GRANTHAM ONCE SAID, "THE CROWDS WERE SO SMALL THAT IT WAS EASIER FOR THE FANS TO INTRODUCE THEMSELVES TO THE PLAYERS."|
The Polo Grounds had another feature that required my dad to be my wing man. From beneath the stands, a narrow, rickety catwalk led to the washroom. The slightest vibration made me feel like I was on one of the rope bridges with wooden slats, from jungle movies. I didn't have a fear of heights but looking down at the spectators below was completely out of the question. So, bravery had nothing to do with my motivation to solo across this span...that's how bad I needed, "to go."
|I LOOKED THROUGH 80 GAZILLION GOOGLE PHOTOS AND NONE DID THE POLO GROUNDS' TROUGH URINAL ANY JUSTICE.|
The last NFL game I went to was on November 15, 1981. My wife Sue and I were living in Las Vegas and we flew up to San Francisco, to see SLW. To spice up our visit, he got us 49ers tickets, for a game against the Cleveland Browns.
Tons of rain hit the Bay Area, in the days leading up to our game. On that Sunday, we woke up to a raw, breezy, drizzly morning. Even worse, we found out that the Candlestick Park parking lot was closed due to flooding. The TV news urged ticket holders to use public transportation.
SLW drove us to a special service bus stop, at a strip mall in San Leandro...in his black, 1959 Volkswagen Bug. When our bus finally came, the dampened three of us shoved our way in and further discomforted the other packed-in sardines.
When we got off, we could see that the empty parking lot was underwater. However outside our gate, makeshift accommodations were made for about fifty side-by-side buses.
|SUE WAS NEITHER A FOOTBALL FAN OR A LOVER OF INCLEMENT WEATHER. SO SHE GLADLY RELEGATED HERSELF TO WANDERING AROUND WITH THE CAMERA OR MAKING HOT CHOCOLATE RUNS IN THE FIRST HALF AND BEER RUNS IN THE SECOND HALF.|
The 49ers were the hottest team in the league. They were expected to shellac the Browns but the wind, rain and poor field conditions helped keep the score down.
|I LEARNED THAT IT WAS BAD JUDGEMENT AT HALF TIME, TO TRY TO GET PICTURES OF THE PLAYERS. ALSO, I'LL HAVE TO ASK SLW WHAT HE'S HOLDING?|
The 49ers got the ball back with a minute and a half to go. A sudden squall dropped sheets of sideways rain on us as I jibed Sue, "If they drive at least thirty yards and kick a field goal, we're going to overtime..." It was one of the few times she ever physically abused me.
|AT THE BACK OF THE SECOND LAYER OF BUSES, I FOUND A CONVENIENT CLUMP OF BUSHES. IT WAS IN THE PRIVACY OF THIS EDEN-LIKE SETTING THAT I PREPARED TO END MY DISCOMFORT.|